ā the night you faked an anniversary and gojo wished the lie would last forever.
ā±āpairing. gojo satoruĀ x gn!reader
ā±ātags. fluff, fake dating i guess???, a little suggestive, modern au, food mention, gojo is veeeryy down bad, unedited
ā±āwc. 1.1k
ā±ānote.Ā i have a very bad gojo brainrot recently.. also this is part of like a whole fake dating series im gonna do w a few other jjk characters so be sure to stay in tune for that :D
gojo is an accomplished scam artist. and so are you.
not the scary kind, though. not the consumer-fraud, voice-phishing, money-laundering kind. itās strictlyā¦ recreational. strategic. and mostly harmless.
it all started on your birthday last year, when gojo surprised you at some bakery and somehow convinced the manager to bring out a full-sized cake āon the houseā. and after that, well, it sort of spiraled. in the most ridiculous, fun way possible. is it honest? not exactly. but itās never malicious. just a shared little secret between the two of you.
since then, every few months, one of you picks a restaurant. maybe a trending spot you saw from tiktok, maybe something youāve been craving. then comes the prep: promo codes, discounts, loopholes. and finally, the icing on the cake, youāll need to dress and act the part.
last time, you both wore your high school uniforms to get the student promo. the time before that, you brought a fake id with a birthday thatās three days away. tonight, youāre draped in jewelry and wearing something thatās showing a little more skin than youāre used to.
gojo isnāt used to the sight eitherāhis eyes keep lingering too long on the exposed skin, and the way your jewelry glints in the soft light. still, he holds it together, all lazy charm and offhand quips, playing the part like itās second nature. even if you do notice how differently he acts, or the flush on his cheeks, you blame the wine, which, of course, gojo also managed to get āon the house.ā
āthis wine is crazy good,ā you comment after another sip.
āthank you,ā gojo replies, tipping his glass. āalso, i know you think the wine is crazy good. youāve said it three times and had half the bottle by yourself.ā
ābecause it is,ā you argue. āi still canāt believe this place does promos like these.ā
āi know,ā he grins. āgo on. admit it. say iām a genius.ā
āyou really are.ā you nod, too full of who-knows-how-much pasta and suspiciously expensive wine he somehow got for free. ālike i could kiss you right now if it meant locking in a lifetime supply of free food.ā
gojo doesnāt reply. heās positive his face has turned red from that comment alone. thankfully, a waiter materializes beside him like divine intervention, placing a plate down with a great flourish. itās tiramisu, topped with a cocoa-powdered āhappy anniversaryā written in cursive, like a prop straight out of a romcom.
āon the house.ā the waitress winks at gojo. āhappy anniversary to the lovely couple.ā
āyou didnāt,ā you gasp. your jaw drops, unaware of the silent exchange that just happened between the waitress and gojo before she leaves. āhow much free stuff are we gonna get? this is insane!ā
āi may have told the chef that you love tiramisu.ā heās smiling, but gojoās voice comes out a little more high-pitched than usual.
āfirst, caviar. and then, this wine. and now, this?ā you wipe an imaginary tear from your eye. āi love you.ā
gojoās heart flutters helplessly at that line. āi love you, too.ā he waves a hand, seeming indifferent to it. because, of course you love him. platonically, at least. āgo on. take a bite.ā
you do. āsatoru,ā you moan once the spoon enters your mouth. āgod. thatās so good i think i just saw the gates of heaven. or maybe that was an orgasm.ā
gojoās knee knocks the underside of the table. he blinks fast, not proud of where his thoughts just wentāor of the way his blood rushes south in response. forcing a smile, he coughs into his hand and reaches for the wine. misses. tries again. clears his throat like itāll cover up his fumble. a bead of sweat starts to form at his temple. the collar of his shirt suddenly feels way too tight. he adjusts it. it doesnāt help.
too immersed in tiramisu, youāre oblivious. of course you are. a meteor could be headed your way and youād still be licking the spoon.
āyou have to try this.ā you say, leaning across the table to offer him a spoonful.
he leans in too, meeting you halfway with his lips already parted. the taste of sweet espresso and cream is good, sure, but he doesnāt really notice. not when your thumb brushes the corner of his mouth. not when youāre sucking the mascarpone off your thumb without looking away.
you had to be doing this on purpose at this point.
gojoās still in a mental stutter when you settle back in your seat, heat pooling somewhere it shouldnāt. shifting in his seat, he lifts his glass and drinks the rest of his wine in one gulp. he scratches the nape of his neck as he turns a darker shade of red. burgundy, maybe.
āi still canāt believe we got all this for free.ā youāre paying no mind. besides, who could focus on anything else when the free tiramisu melts like heaven on your tongue?
gojo clears his throat, praying the lighting hides his flushed cheeks. āwe make a great team,ā he says, feigning nonchalance.
āi guess married life suits us,ā you joke with a wink.
as if burgundy wasnāt enough. judging by how his entire body feels like its on fire right now, heās willing to bet that heās turned into a shade of maroon. he laughs awkwardly. āi could get used to it.ā
you smirk, a little smug. āyouād be lucky to get someone like me, satoru.ā
gojo hums. you donāt know how much he agrees with you. you go back to your dessert, humming under your breath, completely unbothered, while a million āwhat-ifsā race through his head.
a waiter walks past behind you, sending a thumbs-up to gojo. gojo glares at him to shut him up. you tilt your head in a silent questionācrazy how thatās the only weird thing gojo has done the entire night that you have noticedābut gojo shakes his head and waves a hand. you almost immediately let it go once another spoonful of mascarpone enters your mouth.
you donāt know he called a few people three days ago so the restaurant would agree to this. that he greased a few palms for that special case of aged wine and the caviar on your appetizer. or that he bribed the pastry chef to save your favorite dessert, even though it hadnāt been on the menu in over a year. he even got the hostess to seat you near the back, away from too many eyes, just in case you laughed too loud, or called him a dumbass like you always do.
he didnāt tell you anything. and he is not planning to. he just relishes in the brief moment he gets to call you his wife in front of people without you questioning it. even if itās just for tonight. maybe someday, he thinks.
[ tags : youāre a small time internet personality/content creator, mentions of sex, best friends toā¦ something, post time skip]
[ truth or drink m.list ]
you : hi, iām y/n, and iā¦ dude, i dunno, should i say i create content?
suna : that makes you sound like youāre on onlyfans.
you send suna a blank stare. he mirrors your expression. a beat passes and he doesn't budge. you squint at him.
you : ā¦anyway, yeah. i guess you could say iām a content creator or whatever. and this here is my loyal sidekick.
suna : suna rintaro, their loyal side chick.
you : i said sidekick.
suna waves a hand.
suna : same difference.
you roll your eyes but with a chuckle. suna smiles lopsidedly like heās proud of himself for coaxing the laugh out of you. as this happens, the video cuts to a text on a white background. the text says, āthese best friends will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot.ā
[how long have you been friends?]
you : since our last year of high school. he was a friend of a friend.
suna : said friend is actually behind the camera right now.
the camera pans to a figure amongst the crew. itās miya osamu, the proud owner of onigiri miya. he waves to the camera, a half-smile is on his lips. the camera pans back to you and suna.
suna : he will be fact checking for us.
you : yes, because we all know one of us likes to lie.
suna : canāt believe you just outed yourself like that.
you : ha ha, very funny.
[how do you feel about your fans shipping you together?]
you see suna watching your reaction closely from the corner of your eye. you shrug.
you : i donāt mind. it makes for good content.
he nods absentmindedly. you catch his jaw flexing just barely before he leans back casually in his chair.
you : iāll go first.
you reach for the card from the stack in the middle of the table. sunaās eyes follow your movements closely. thereās a seriousness behind his expressionāsomething that wasnāt there before in your last video, your fans note.
you : describe the first time we met. and tell me your honest first impression. no censoring.
suna : hm.
he doesnāt look like he remembers. he folds his hands together and presses them to his lips like heās deep in thought. the crease in his eyebrows, however, reads like heās digging through a mental folder heās labeled āirrelevantā.
you : you donāt remember, do you?
suna : weāve met each other several times but never introduced ourselves. iām just not quite sure which one our first interaction was.
you : hmā¦ thatās true. i think it might be that time i thought me and the twins were going to get lunch just the three of us. and then you showed up.
suna : and you called me suma the whole time we were there.
you laugh, one hand instinctively covering your mouth.
you : oh my god, i completely forgot. why didnāt you correct me? atsumu grilled me on the ride home.
suna : i did. like, three times. the fourth time you got it wrong, i just decided to let you live in ignorance.
mock-offended, you gasp, hand flying to your chest in dramatics. sunaās mouth twitches into a smile.
suna : also, that wasnāt even the first time we met.
you tilt your head, invested in what heās going to say next.Ā
suna : second year. remember? it was after that match against kamomedai. you asked me if i was lost. post game. i was standing next to the bus. in full uniform.
suna turns his head and stares straight into the camera.
suna : mind you, my name was written in bold, capital le-
you : okay, okay, in my defense, you were justā¦ standing around. all alone. by the vending machines. like some creep.
suna : i was waiting for atsumu. if anything, you should be more concerned about him lurking in public.
you chuckle sheepishly, mumbling a quiet "sorry" before your gaze drops to the table. suna laughs, low and warm. when you look back up, heās already watching you with a fond, amused expression on his face (like maybe heās okay with you getting his name wrong). you grin.
suna : alright. my turn.
he picks up a card, smirking as his eyes scan the question before reading it out loud.
suna : show me your tinder. or take a shot.
you groan. suna grins like heās the devil himself.
suna : this might be the best day of my life. theyāve kept it from me for so long. oh, and only losers would pick taking a shot over showing me their tinder, by the way.
you : i donāt even use it anymore.
suna : thatās probably because youāre pulling no one with your tragic profile. hand it over.
you squint at him, but heās already extended his hand out, smug as ever. reluctant, you reach into your pocket and drop your phone into his palm. suna unlocks it with ease, your passcode long committed to his memory. he snorts when he finally reads your bio.
suna : hm... āhot, emotionally unavailable, but good with parentsā. i guess thatās pretty accurate. my parents do love you.
you : mhm. although, now that i think about it, youāre way more emotionally unavailable than me. especially sinceā¦ you know. them.
his pleased smile twitches. only slightly. he looks down and taps the screen once more.
suna : you really donāt like them, do you?
you : i just didnāt really get what you saw in them.
a pause. he then locks your phone and slides it back across the table. the camera catches the brief hesitation in his expression before he lets go.
suna : still. i would never describe myself as emotionally unavailable.
you eye him suspiciously, surprised by the speed of him returning your phone. you take it back anyways.
suna : iām incredibly available.
you : says the man whoās practically celibate.
suna : thatās what you think.
you raise an eyebrow. suna shrugs. something heavy settles in the air.
you read the next card.
you : are you ever jealous of me?
suna doesnāt answer right away. you clear your throat.
you : the answerās obviously yes.
suna : ...right. because iāve always wanted to know what itās like to be a cold-hearted witch with a god complex.
you scoff, but youāre silently glad to see that mischievous glint flicker back into his eyes.
you : youāre jealous and projecting.
suna : you gonna let me answer?
you : by all means.
he exhales, that stupid smirk slipping off his face again. your heart stutters in nervous anticipation.
suna : i donāt think iāve ever been jealous of you. specifically. more like... the people who flirt with you, maybe.
you : whatā¦ what do you mean?
suna shrugs, but avoids your eyes like the plague. his fingers fidget with the cards on the table, straightening the already-neat pile.
suna : i donāt know. you laugh at their jokes. like theyāre funny.
you : they are, though. most of the time.
suna : they never are.
heās sulking. heās pretending like heās not but he is. only a few can tell. you can proudly say youāre one of them. you smile, endeared yet amused.
you : you couldāve just said you wanted me to laugh at yours more.
suna : what? no. thatās embarrassing. donāt say that.
you : it's what you meant, though.
he squints at you. somewhere offscreen, osamu snorts, and then the crew bursts into laughter. you grin victoriously. suna bites back a smile, but it breaks through anyway.
suna : who do you think has had more sexual partners?
you : hmmā¦ define āpartner.ā
suna raises an eyebrow.
you : what?
suna : that sounds like something someone with a suspiciously long list would ask.
you : well that sounds like deflection.
suna : yeah, okay. whatās your number, then?
you : heeelll no. we are not doing this.
you twist open the bottle of liquor. suna leans forward while you do, elbow on the table with his chin propped up on his hand, clearly not dropping the subject. his eyes follow your every movement as you pour yourself a drink, like heās trying to figure out the answer through your body language.
you : stop that.
suna : justā blink twice if itās a two digit number.
you : okay. blink once if youāre annoying.
offscreen laughter erupts. a soft ādamnā from osamu is heard from behind the camera.Ā
suna : y/n.
you : fine. i guess iāll answer if you answer first.
suna : ā¦three.
a few seconds of silence pass as you wait for him to continue. you glance off-camera, catching osamuās eye. he nods, confirming.
you : wait, thatās it? i thought you were counting down!
he shrugs nonchalantly, also pouring his own shot.
suna : quality over quantity. you know iām not like that.
you : huh. sure, mr. iām-not-flirting-iām-just-being-nice.
suna : iāll take that as a compliment.
you : thank god i didnāt fall for that.
he laughs, low, almost mockingly, but not quite.
suna : couldāve fooled me. cheers?
blinking, your mouth opens. closes. heās already lifting his shot glass. before you could muster yp a response, he clinks your glasses together and knocks the shot back. you follow, a little slower and a little puzzled.
you : i kinda already know the answer to this one.
suna : whatās the question?
you : have you ever disliked someone i dated?
suna : oh. of course i have.
you : mhm. care to specify?
suna : well, i donāt really like any of them.
you : any of them? you make me sound like iām a serial dater.
suna ignores you.
suna : but the one i dislike the most would be that guy who called you ābabeā in front of everyone. like he was trying to prove something. iām not even sure he even knew your name at that point.
you laugh at the memory. suna, however, doesnāt. he upholds a serious expression on his face.
suna : also, he once wore sunglasses indoors. and not even cool ones. like cheap, gas station sunglasses.
you : thatās fair.
[so, suna, you donāt have a favorite?]
you : he never got along with any of my exes.
you look over at suna. something about his expression is unreadable. you brush it off and awkwardly smile.
suna : you never got along with mine either.
you : your exes were spawns of satan, rin.
suna : yours peaked in high school and never emotionally evolved since.
you roll your eyes, smiling, not even denying his claim.
you : and here i thought you just hated everyone equally.
suna : it's just- i just think you could do better. youād look good withā¦
he pauses, the words dying on his tongue. for a second, it feels like the air stills. you catch the shift in his eyes, how they flicker toward you and then away again. he finally clears his throat.
suna : someone like osamu. great cook, strong forearms. what more could you need?
you groan, but with a laugh. the camera pans to osamu whoās mid-sip. he slowly lowers his glass, revealing a disgusted look on his face. you laugh a little harder when you catch his reaction.
suna : not everyone gets to date a d-list celebrity, you know?
you shake your head, smiling to yourself. your gaze drops to your feet, where your shoes knock gently against his under the table. youāre wearing the burgundy sambas he got you for your birthday. so you could match his. which is what heās currently wearing as well.
you : your turn.
suna takes a card. when he scans it, his jaw tightens. the tips of his ears start to tinge pink when he reads for the second time. you donāt notice, too busy sipping from your glass of water. suna clears his throat once. then again. it turns into a small coughing fit. you glance at him from behind your glance, silently making sure heās okay.
suna : sitā¦
he swallows.
suna : sit in my lap for a full minute. or take a shot.
you start choking on your water. violently. lurching forwards, you loudly cough into your sleeve.
suna : damn. didnāt realize the card said waterboarding.
a round of soft chuckles are heard from the camera crew. not long after, you finally manage to recover and wipe your eyes.
you : shut up. iāll take a shot.
suna : be serious. youāve had three. one more and youāll black out. iāll take it for you.
you narrow your eyes.
you : are you calling me weak?
suna : no. iām calling you a lightweight. thereās a difference.
[how about we take it down to thirty seconds, but you have to make eye contact the whole time?]
you hesitate, mouth parted in protest. your gaze flickers between suna and the crew.
you : ā¦fine. canāt wait to ruin my dignity on camera.
suna : you act like itās the worst thing youāve done on camera.
you : you better shut up or iām telling the internet how you cried watching-
suna : okay, okay. geez.
he raises his hands in defense. you dejectedly stand up and drag your feet to his seat. grumbling to yourself, you swing a leg over his lap and climb into his lap, effectively almost straddling him. when you do, sunaās arms stay planted firmly at his sides, like heās trying very hard to not touch you. meanwhile, youāre perched awkwardly on top of his lap, with your legs half-stiff and your ass hovering barely an inch above his thighs. then, you finally make eye contact. sunaās already looking at you, gaze steady and a little too intense.
suna : sit properly.
you : i am sitting properly.
he exhales loudly. one of his hand lifts, hesitates mid-air, then lands at your waist. he presses you down until your full weight settles on him. your breath hitches at the sudden shift, your entire body tensing up at the contact. his hand stays where it is.
[eye contact, guys.]
you meet his gaze. again, heās already looking at you, with those striking, grayish-yellow colored eyes. his face is unreadable, but you catch the faintest flush starting to spread across his cheeks.
you : stop blinking like that.
suna : like what?
you : i donāt know. you look weird.
suna : thatās just my face.
you roll your eyes, but thereās no heat behind it. youāre both still holding eye contact, faces way too close for comfort. his hand shifts slightly where it rests on your waist, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up before you can stop them.
you : wow.
you laugh, a little breathless. suna stays quiet, still with that unreadable expression of his.
you : canāt believe this is how i get to spend my valentineās day.
suna : on my lap? lucky you.
you : mhm, such a privilege. should i start a gratitude journal?
suna : maybe write a haiku while you're at it.
you : hey. you're the one that agreed to this.
suna : i was blackmailed.
you : well, i gotta milk you for content, my guy. the fans love you.
suna : mmm. canāt wait to be someoneās lockscreen again.
you : youāre welcome, by the way.
suna : for what?
you : for boosting your stock.
suna : thought i was already a bargain.
you : okay, relax there, casanova.
[ten seconds left.]
youāre still on his lap. his hand is still at your waist. none of you move an inch, too scared of... something you can't quite place.
you : this is soā¦ abnormal.
suna : nothing about this has ever been normal.
youāre breathing a little heavier now. he shifts under you slightly, and the movement sends a jolt up your spine. the timer goes off. you scramble off his lap in a flash. your chair scrapes as you slide back into place, heartbeat loud in your ears. suna exhales, low. he adjusts in his seat, shifting with a small grunt, legs spreading slightly as he leans forward. you catch the motion and pointedly donāt look down.
you clear your throat. the tension still clings to the air like humidity, but when you glance at suna, heās already knocked back another shot. whatever just happenedāheās wearing his usual face again.
you : okay. final question.
suna : hit me.
you : do you love me?
he blinks.
suna : i mean. yeah? obviously.Ā
your breath hitches. itās barely noticeable, but he sees it. youāre sure he does.
suna : platonically, of course.
you nod slowly, ignoring how your heartbeat is spiraling out of control.
you : cool. same. just two friendsā¦
suna :
you : ā¦who sit in each otherās laps for content.
suna : and almost kiss during drinking games.
you : which is normal.
suna : yep. not unusual at all.
a beat or two passes. you laugh awkwardly, looking at anywhere but him.
you : the comments are probably full of people screaming at us to kiss already.
suna : they sure love to do that.
your eyes land back on suna. heās also looking at anywhere but you, hands fiddling with anything and everything thatās placed on the table.
you : to be fair, even if we were datingā¦ it wouldnāt even look that different.
suna : yeah.
your eyes meet. you start laughing awkwardly. suna only nods, a little solemn.
you : good thing weāre not.
suna : yeah. wouldāve been confusing.
you : so messy.
suna : ...probably would be nice, though.
he pauses, glancing away.
suna : for content, of course.
he says it like a joke, but his eyes donāt quite match his voice. he doesnāt even look at you when he says it, just spins the shot glass between his fingers, slow and restless.
you : yeah... for content.
you echo it back with a half-smile, but the words land heavier than they should. off-camera, someone coughs. someone else laughs and says, āthatās a wrap!ā you both blink. suna straightens a little. you clear your throat, suddenly aware of the crew again. neither of you realize the camera hasnāt stopped rolling.
suna : guess weāre done being honest for today.
you : ...thatās good. i guess.
suna :
you :
suna : soā¦
you : yeah?
suna : dinner after this?
you : depends. is it for content?
he finally looks at you. there's that half-smirk again, the one you know and love.
the camera pans to osamu again, still on the sidelines with his now empty coffee cup.
[so, what do you think?]
osamu : ābout what?
[the video. suna and y/n.]
osamu : you mean the hour-long denial exercise?
the crew laughs. you and suna were just walking off set when you see the camera being pointed at osamu.
suna : hey. you talking shit?
osamu : i'd never never talk shit behind your back. to your face? absolutely.
you : please do enlighten us.
osamu : you sure?
osamu doesn't even wait for your response before he starts talking.
osamu : yātwo act like you're fooling everyone. y/n, iāve seen your tiktok favorites. donāt pretend ya didnāt save that fan edit of suna with a doja cat song over it. and suna, ya sat through all of their partners pretending ya didnāt care. helped 'em move on, wrote the break up texts. yer not slick. we all knew yer in love. even the exes knew. if atsumu were here, heād have shoved yer heads together and gotten this over with.
suna and you freeze, visibly flustered. the crew snickers.
osamu : the tension between yātwo makes people uncomfortable. youāre basically a public health hazard. also, side note, atsumu bet on you two kissing by next week. he wins, i suffer. so please. stall.
the room breaks into muffled laughter. you bury your face in your hands. suna mutters an insult under his breath and walks off.
the only thing worse than this godforsaken day is the heat that comes with it. itās february, but your uniform is sticking to your skin, and sweat is beading along your hairline. itās the kind of heat that makes chocolate melt, and you wonder if the girls swarming geto have considered that.
or if their brains are as melted as the chocolate.
āyouāre awfully quiet.ā gojo muses from next to you. heās loudlyāobnoxiouslyāslurping an iced black coffee thatās definitely stolen from nanamiās stash, if the tragic lack of sugar is anything to go by.
you glance at him, annoyed but far too drained to do anything about it. āitās way too hot to be functioning properly,ā you say flatly.
āitās not the heat,ā he says in an annoyingly pragmatic kind of way. āyouāre obviously not handling your crush's success well.ā he nods to himself, satisfied, like heās just connected a set of imaginary dots only he can see.
āyouāre projecting.ā you gesture to the pile of stolen gifts heās hoarded from nanami and shoko. āyouāre the one whoās spiraling.ā
gasping dramatically, gojoās blue eyes light up in amusement. āso, you admit it. you do have a crush on him.ā
you shoot him a look that could wither flowers quicker than the heat. somehow, heās unfazed, his stupid grin not leaving his face. with a sigh, you stand, rummage through your bag, and toss a chocolate bar at him. it hits his chest with a thump. āhere. before you say something else that makes me want to choke you with your own tie.ā
gojoās grin stretches wider as he clutches the chocolate to his chest like itās his most prized possession. āawww, you do love me.ā
ādonāt flatter yourself. someone had to pity you.ā
āoh, i feel so specialāwait,ā he pauses, gaze dropping to the bar, āi thought you were going to give this toāā
you hear footsteps approaching. you donāt even have to turn around to know itās getoās, and heās closing in.
right before gojo finishes his sentence, you instinctively press your heel down hard on his foot. he yelps and bites back the rest of his words with a grimace.
āwhereās mine?ā getoās smooth and velvety voice is right next to your ear, sending chills down your spine
you turn around, acting composed. āwhat made you think iād give you any?ā
geto is closer than you expectāonly a few inches away, thanks to the narrow aisles of your classroom. neither of you moves, eyes locked with each other in a familiar kind of silence. his gaze is unreadable but steady; you do your best to not let yours waver, even as a feeling you canāt name weighs heavy on your chest.
āyou gave satoru one.ā geto nods to gojo, whoās already unwrapping the chocolate you had tied delicately with a bow. he takes a huge bite out of it while keeping his eyes locked on his favorite live sitcom unfolding right in front of him.
you raise an eyebrow. āmaybe i like him better than you.ā
that earns the smallest lift of one corner of getoās mouth. his eyes flicker with an emotion you canāt quite place, and before you can think too hard about it, he takes a step closer. just enough to almost close the space between you two. the space, or lack thereof, knocks the wind out of your lungs, making it suddenly hard to breathe.
then, he leans in, far closer than necessary. āyou sure about that?ā his voice dips low. dangerously low.
you keep your face blank, not letting any of your reactions show. but your breath hitchesāand by the time you realize and try to steady it, itās already too late. geto catches it. his smirk says so.
youāve never been sure what goes on in his head. geto keeps his thoughts sealed tight, but thereās something lingering in his stare. something heavy. like heās waiting for you to figure it out first.
gojo alternates glances between you two. āi love this,ā he says, chewing far too loud for someone whoās eating chocolate. āshould i get popcorn?ā
āshut up,ā you and geto snap in unison.
geto straightens his back just slightlyāenough to let air back in your lungs, but not enough to give you real space. the sleeves of his button up brush your bare arms when he makes the slightest move, and it sends a sharp jolt through you every time.
you fold your arms, half hoping itāll keep him at a distance. ādonāt you have like, fifteen boxes already? go eat those.ā
he shrugs, nonchalant and infuriating. ānone of them were from you.ā
you scoff. āeven if i did give you one, iād have them poisoned first.ā
āiād still eat it,ā he says smugly, but thereās something behind his eyes. like his words mean more than they should.
āgod, just kiss already.ā gojo whines, dissolving the tension with his grating voice.
this time, both of you ignore him, knowing the words āshut upā mean nothing to that imbecile.
āiām just saying i wouldāve liked one,ā geto drawls casually, āespecially from you.ā
you falter just a second before regaining your tough composure. ātough luck,ā you quip.
geto doesnāt flinch. just keeps watching you with that same unreadable gaze. āokay,ā he says eventually. āso what do i have to do to earn yours?ā
āstop trying, geto.ā you deadpan. āyouāre never getting chocolate from me.ā
his smile fades into something quieter. for a second you think he might say something else, but he doesnāt. he just leans back, calm and unreadable. ānext year,ā he says, offhandedly.
you glance at him, suspicious. āwhat about it?ā
āyouāll give me one. iāll win you over by then.ā
you roll your eyes. āyouāre delusional.ā
he starts walking off, slow and easy, like the conversation you just had didnāt affect him in the slightest bit. āweāll see,ā he calls over his shoulder, that irritating smirk still on his lips.
beside you, gojo licks chocolate off his thumb. āare you gonna tell him you gave me the chocolate you were supposed to give him orā¦ā
ā±ānote. this piece was commissioned by sy! if you're looking for more like these, my commissions are open :-)
KAGEYAMA TOBIO ;ā
itās late, and youāre huddled next to kageyama, bridgerton playing low in the background. the sound of violins cuts through the quiet, delicate and swelling. on screen, kate dances with anthony in the middle of a ballroom. ājust keep looking at me. no one else matters.ā anthony says, pulling kate closer.
you glance over.
kageyamaās lips are pressed together in a flat line, eyebrows furrowed, so immensely deep in concentration. a soft laugh escapes you.
āwhat?ā kageyama whips his head towards you. āis there something funny i missed?ā
āno.ā you shake your head, but an ideaās already blooming in your head. ādance with me.ā
he blinks. āwhat?ā
āyou heard me.ā grinning, youāre already up, hands outstretched towards your boyfriend whoās still frozen in place. ācome, my lord.ā
ābut i donāt dance.ā his tone is blunt, likeās itās not an excuse, but a fact. he takes your hand and stands up anyhow. āi canāt.ā
āwell, neither can i.ā you shrug. guiding one of his hands to your waist, you slip the other into yours.
his posture is stiff and awkward. his back is too tense, arms too limp, feet too far apart.
āleft foot first,ā you whisper.
he takes a step.
you wince when a sharp pain is felt on your left foot.
āsorry.ā he winces too. āi stepped on you, didnāt i?ā
you giggle as he turn red. āmaybe a little.ā
you think heād pull back from that little incident, but he doesnāt. after a quick look to the tv, he adjusts his grip and straightens his back. you catch the way his eyes flicker between the tv screen and your feet, locked in the same focus like when heās reviewing footage from his volleyball games.
you laugh, soft and breathy. āyou know iām just doing this for fun, right?ā
āI know,ā he mutters, brows still pulled together in focus. ābutā¦ you knowā¦ just in case you feel like dancing again. i wanna be good at it. for you.ā
you pause, blinking up at him. heās not even looking at you. your heart flutters and a smile tugs at your lips. āwow. that was actually kind of sweet.ā
kageyama scoffs, ears tinged red. āshut up.ā
āno, what? say it again. i think i might cry.ā
āiām not gonna say it again.ā
āyouāre blushing.ā
he groans, burying his face in your shoulder. āiām never dancing with you again.ā
you laugh, wrapping your arms around him, still swaying in place. āthatās fine,ā you murmur, pressing your cheek against his. your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. āi have this one to hold over your head for all of eternity.ā
āhey!ā
KITA SHINSUKE ;ā
ramen might be the best invention to ever grace this planet.
thatās the thought that crosses your mind as you fill a pot with tap water and set it on the stove. youāve just turned the knob when you hear the slow shuffle of feet down the hallway. a quiet thud. then a pause. then more shuffling.
kita appears in the kitchen doorway, hair tousled and eyes heavy with sleep. his white shirtāonce crisp and tucked neatly into the waistband of his pantsāis wrinkled and and hanging crooked on his frame. thereās a faint crease on his cheek where it was pressed into the couch cushion, like a stamp of proof heās been knocked out and dead to the world for a while. youāre almost certain heās still a little drunkāatsumu had insisted on buying rounds for the old gang after his big win.
āhi,ā he says, his voice raspy and low. a lopsided smile tugs faintly at his lips as he walks up behind you and slides his arms around your waist.
āhi,ā you say back, somewhere between fond and amused. kita rests his head on your shoulder, eyes fluttering closed. āi thought youād be out longer. you snored for a solid twenty minutes.ā
he hums. ādidnāt mean to pass out. i wanted to eat ramen with you.ā
āsorry i didnāt wake you. you looked like you needed it.ā
he murmurs something in return thatās too incoherent to fully comprehend.
the water starts to boil. kita watches silently as you rip open the ramen packet and slide the noodles into the pot.
then, without warning, he turns you in his arms, guiding you to face him. his eyes are soft and still hazy with sleep, and he smells like a mix of his cologne and the sake heās been nursing until about an hour ago. the corners of his mouth quirk up just slightly as he takes you back in his arms and starts swaying you both side to side.
you raise an eyebrow. āwhat are you doing?ā
ādancing,ā he says simply, as if itās the most obvious thing in the world.
you glance at the stove. ābut the noodlesāā
kita turns your chin back toward him with a finger. āwe haveāā he holds up three fingers, āthree minutes.ā
you laughāa real, unrestrained belly laugh. itās rare you get to see him like this. kitaās always composed, so deliberate in everything that he does, in a quiet, matter-of-fact kind of way. so seeing him like this, unguarded and a little silly, feels like catching a rare celestial event.
he grins as he moves with you, steps slow and uncoordinated, like heās making them up as he goes. thereās no music, just the gentle hum of the stove and the bubbling of water cooking your noodles.
āshin,ā you murmur.
kita only hums in response.
āi think you might still be drunk.ā
he shakes his head. āam not.ā
you nod solemnly. āriiight. whatever you say.ā
he blinks. ā...okay. maybe just a little.ā
you laugh again and rest your head against his shoulder, letting yourself melt in his hold. you catch yourself thinking how itās ridiculous, reallyāhow soft this feels, how sappy and sentimental it all is. and maybe, just maybe, there is something better than ramen.
and itās the three minutes you spend waiting for them to cook.
SUNA RINTARO ;ā
āthat is so not happening.ā
you glance over at suna from the other end of the couch, where youāre propped up against a cushion with your feet on his lap. āwhatās not?ā
he doesnāt look up from his phone. āthe dancing. at the wedding.ā
āoh,ā you murmur, a beat or two too late. you try not to seem too disheartened by averting your gaze back to your phone screen, although youāve stopped scrolling since a while ago.
you knew heād say that. of course he would. heād hate itābeing at the center of attention, looking dumb in front of people he barely knows. dancing? in a room full of prying eyes? thatās basically his worse nightmare.
āi didnāt say you had to,ā you add.
you feel suna shift under your legs. your gaze is still fixed onto your phone. āwhy do you want to anyways?ā he asks. itās not sarcastic, nor dismissive, only pure curiosity.
āi donāt know. i just thought itād be nice. dancing together.ā you shrug, trying to come off as nonchalant. as if the rejection didnāt hit you as hard as it did. āeven if we suck at it,ā you add.
āi donāt suck at anything,ā he says almost immediately.
you huff a soft laugh. āyeah. right.ā
he doesnāt respond, and you figure thatās the end of it.
a few days later, youāve just come out of the shower only to find your bed still empty. itās the night before the wedding, and you were hoping heād already be half asleep under your blanket instead, you pad around your apartment to look for sunaāintent on getting his stubborn, nocturnal ass to sleep.
you find him in the living room, where the lights are off and the tv is on. a paused youtube tutorial is frozen mid-step, meanwhile suna is posed awkwardly in the middle of the living room with a slight frown on his face. his phone lies face down on the couch, music playing softly from its speakersāa slow, classical song that sounds suspiciously like it belongs in a wedding playlist. he then shifts his weight from one foot to the other while counting under his breath. he pauses for a bit, then starts all over again.
you lean against the doorway, stunned into a few minutes of silence. āyouāve been practicing,ā you finally whisper.
suna jumps at your voice, turning around too fast. āwhat- no! i mean, not really, i was just-ā
ārin.ā you smile, feeling as soft as putty as you walk over to him.
he says nothing but exhales through his nose. rubbing the back of his neck, you catch his cheeks turning slightly pink.
you step into his arms, one hand slipping into his while the other rests on his shoulder. he lets you, though his fingers twitch a little nervously in yours. you take a step, and suna follows suit. a little stiff, you admitāitās obvious that heās never done this before. but he shadows your movements in such concentration, it makes your chest ache. like heās afraid of getting it wrong. like he wants so badly not to.
āyou said you wanted to dance, didnāt you?ā he mumbles, eyes trailing up to finally look at you after a few minutes of just watching your feet.
you smile and nod.
he swallows, but thereās a soft smile on his lips now that heās seen yours. ājustā¦ donāt tell the twins.ā
MIYA ATSUMU ;ā
āso, what, ya drink coffee now?ā
you and atsumu are walking side by side, passing dim shop windows and humming vending machines on the way back to the station. his hands are in his pockets, while yours are wrapped around a cup of coffee he insisted on buying for you even though you said you didnāt want one (you very much did).
you roll your eyes, sipping your latte. āyou act like iām still eight.ā
he laughs. you never thought youād miss the sound. it used to be the most obnoxious sound that annoyed you throughout high school. āwell, you act like yer still eight.ā he nudges you with an elbow.
you shake your head, hiding your grin behind another sip. atsumuās grinning, tooāstupid in that way it always is. like he knows he looks good and heās weaponizing it.
this is familiar. too familiar. the rhythm of your footsteps, the lazy back-and-forth, the way he keeps looking over at you like heās memorizing something. but thereās something in the air tonight, and you canāt quite put a finger on what. like thereās just a weird little itch in your chest you donāt feel like naming.
a song plays faintly from a corner store across the street, and just as youāre mid-sip, he grabs your free hand and spins you. no warning. just laughter and cold fingers and the kind of chaos thatās always followed him around.
āatsumu!ā you stumble, catching yourself against his chest. your latte magically somehow is still in your head.
he just laughs. ācāmon. dance with me.ā
āwhat? no way!ā you exclaim, bewildered. āpeople will stare at us.ā
ālet them.ā heās still grinning. ālive a little.ā
your first steps are hesitant. he spins you again, then grabs your waist, which sends shivers up your spine. you can feel him watching you. his gaze soft, unreadable. the space between you narrows with every quiet turn.
then, it starts to rain.
you groan. āseriously?ā
atsumuās already pulling off his jacket. āhere.ā
āno, itās fine, letās just get somewhere dry, andāā you stop mid-sentence when he steps closer and drapes the jacket over your shoulders.
his hands linger for a beat longer than necessary. you look up into his eyes, but his expression is unreadable, like thereās something heās holding back.
ātsumu?ā
he swallows. āiāminlovewithyou.ā
the words come stumbling out his lips too fast. quiet, just above a whisper, but no hesitation. like heās been holding it in all night but the rain pulled it out of him.
āwhat?ā you ask. youāre not quite sure why you do, because you heard it clear enough the first time. maybe you simply want to hear him say it again.
āi wasnāt gonna say anything. but then you smiled that smile you do, and then it started raining. and i just really want to kiss you. andā¦ā he laughs, breathless. āfuck it. i love you.ā
you donāt speak. you just lean him and kiss him.
his lips are soft, and a little wet from the rain. they part in surprise, but he melts into it like heās been waiting for thisāyouāfor a long, long time.
when you pull back, youāre both blinking. soaked. grinning.
you tilt your head. ānot bad.ā
he squints at you. ānot bad?ā
you smile, a little smug. āmaybe a solid seven?ā
āyouāre unbelievable,ā he mutters, but thereās no heat behind itājust that grin again, a little crooked, a little too fond.
you shrug. āguess youāll just have to try again then.ā
and he does.
AKAASHI KEIJI ;ā
youāre still getting used to the new apartment.
itās only been a few days since the move, and everythingās still kind of a disaster. cardboard boxes are stacked like makeshift furniture against the walls, your mattress is just there on the floor like it gave up halfway through the day, and thereās one lamp plugged in by the couch casting this weirdly dramatic glow over the chaos.
you and akaashi has been unpacking bit by bit, and while akaashiās set on setting up the kitchen, youāre crouched on the floor digging through a box labeled record player, vinyls, & cds.
āyou kept this?ā you ask, holding up the record sleeveāchet baker sings, corners soft with age, the title barely visible in the warm light of the single lamp.
from the kitchen, akaashi glances up from where heās organizing a spice rack. he walks over when he sees what you're holding. āyou got it for me,ā he says, ācouldnāt leave it behind.ā
āi thought you said you didnāt like his voice.ā
āi said he always sounds like heās about to fall asleep,ā he corrects, gently taking the sleeve from your hands. ābutā¦ i like how it sounds when you sing along.ā
āoh.ā you look at him, startled. āwell thatās awfully sweet.ā
āyouāre dramatic,ā he mutters, but heās already removing the record player from the box it resided and setting it up on another box closer to a power outlet.
the room fills with soft crackle when he puts the vinyl in. āthere will never be another youā spills into the apartment, and fills the room with breathy vocals and smooth trumpet.
ādance with me,ā you say.
akaashi turns to face you, a susupicious look on his face.
ājust do it.ā you motion him over.
you grab his hands when he gets close enough, stationing them on your hips. yours snake their way up around his neck, finding comfort at the base of his neck where hair meets skin. you sway together to the beat, slow and sure.
you rest your cheek on his shoulder, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
āthis might be the most romantic thing weāve ever done,ā you mumble into his shirt.
akaashi hums. āthatās a little concerning.ā
you laugh, nudging your forehead into his neck. āhey, donāt knock it. weāve got music, lighting, ambianceā¦ā
āboxes.ā
āokay, yeah. boxes.ā
he pulls back slightly just to look at you. āyou okay?ā
you nod. youāre not even sure what okay means right nowāeverythingās still a mess, and you donāt know where your toothbrush isābut heās here. warm, steady, holding you like youāre both exactly where youāre supposed to be.
āyeah,ā you say quietly. āiām really glad we decided to move in together.ā
his thumb brushes gently over the back of your hand. āme too.ā
neither of you say anything else after that. you continue to sway, between cardboard boxes and tangled bedsheets, letting the song play outācrackling, warm, familiar. the apartment still smells like a mix of dust and fresh paint. the curtains arenāt up yet. but the music curls around you both like a promise, soft and steady. like itās always belonged there.
hi friends. i really, really hate doing this again but iām in a bit of a tight spot and hoping tumblr can pull through for me one more time.
some of you might remember that two years ago i was trying to save up $1000 (to cover rent, etc) during a pretty rough time. but thanks to you guys, whether you donated or even just reblogged, i was able to get through it. :-)
itās been so long since then. iāve missed you guys more than you know... life kind of swallowed me whole, with uni, work, trying to heal, trying to function. i havenāt been online here, and i really miss this community and the way this blog felt like my own safe little corner of the internet.
the good news: iāve paid off $900 of that $1000 on my own.
the bad news: i still have $100 leftā¦ and only 5 days to cover it before it turns into a bigger problem. iāve done everything i canāi skipped meals, picked up every little job ā but iām stuck, and i need help.
with that, i hereby announce that iām reopening commissions, and tips via ko-fi are also very appreciated. even if youāre not in a place to give, just a reblog goes such a long way. iām doing my best to be more active here again, and every bit of support means the world.
also! i now have a kpop blog, so if youād like to commission k-pop related content (fics, imagines, drabbles, etc), you can do so over there too! iāll be posting commission info on both blogs so feel free to check either one out depending on your interest š
thank you for reading and for caring. below is the link to my ko-fi and commission info. please help a girl out if you can. ā¤ļø
update; thanks to your kindness (whether it was through a tip, commission, or reblog), weāve officially reached 1/4 of the goal! iām still taking commissions (including for my kpop blog!) and ko-fi tips are open. if you canāt donate, a reblog is so appreciated <3 thank you so much
hi friends. i really, really hate doing this again but iām in a bit of a tight spot and hoping tumblr can pull through for me one more time.
some of you might remember that two years ago i was trying to save up $1000 (to cover rent, etc) during a pretty rough time. but thanks to you guys, whether you donated or even just reblogged, i was able to get through it. :-)
itās been so long since then. iāve missed you guys more than you know... life kind of swallowed me whole, with uni, work, trying to heal, trying to function. i havenāt been online here, and i really miss this community and the way this blog felt like my own safe little corner of the internet.
the good news: iāve paid off $900 of that $1000 on my own.
the bad news: i still have $100 leftā¦ and only 5 days to cover it before it turns into a bigger problem. iāve done everything i canāi skipped meals, picked up every little job ā but iām stuck, and i need help.
with that, i hereby announce that iām reopening commissions, and tips via ko-fi are also very appreciated. even if youāre not in a place to give, just a reblog goes such a long way. iām doing my best to be more active here again, and every bit of support means the world.
also! i now have a kpop blog, so if youād like to commission k-pop related content (fics, imagines, drabbles, etc), you can do so over there too! iāll be posting commission info on both blogs so feel free to check either one out depending on your interest š
thank you for reading and for caring. below is the link to my ko-fi and commission info. please help a girl out if you can. ā¤ļø
hi friends. i really, really hate doing this again but iām in a bit of a tight spot and hoping tumblr can pull through for me one more time.
some of you might remember that two years ago i was trying to save up $1000 (to cover rent, etc) during a pretty rough time. but thanks to you guys, whether you donated or even just reblogged, i was able to get through it. :-)
itās been so long since then. iāve missed you guys more than you know... life kind of swallowed me whole, with uni, work, trying to heal, trying to function. i havenāt been online here, and i really miss this community and the way this blog felt like my own safe little corner of the internet.
the good news: iāve paid off $900 of that $1000 on my own.
the bad news: i still have $100 leftā¦ and only 5 days to cover it before it turns into a bigger problem. iāve done everything i canāi skipped meals, picked up every little job ā but iām stuck, and i need help.
with that, i hereby announce that iām reopening commissions, and tips via ko-fi are also very appreciated. even if youāre not in a place to give, just a reblog goes such a long way. iām doing my best to be more active here again, and every bit of support means the world.
also! i now have a kpop blog, so if youād like to commission k-pop related content (fics, imagines, drabbles, etc), you can do so over there too! iāll be posting commission info on both blogs so feel free to check either one out depending on your interest š
thank you for reading and for caring. below is the link to my ko-fi and commission info. please help a girl out if you can. ā¤ļø
hi im terribly sorry for popping up only to say this but it would mean the world to me if anyone could help me out.
ive been stuck in a depressive episode lately (hence why i havent been on tumblr), mostly bc i havent been doing well financially and i need money stat. ive been trying to save up $1000 to pay rent and other living expenses but im still coming up short, & balancing all that with uni has been really tough
i currently am reopening commissions and am trying to be more online here on tumblr so i can get more readers. or if you can donate a bit, that would be greatly appreciated too. even just a reblog helps :)
thank you so much for reading, here is the link to my ko-fi & how to commission to those who are willing to help a girl out <3
hi im terribly sorry for popping up only to say this but it would mean the world to me if anyone could help me out.
ive been stuck in a depressive episode lately (hence why i havent been on tumblr), mostly bc i havent been doing well financially and i need money stat. ive been trying to save up $1000 to pay rent and other living expenses but im still coming up short, & balancing all that with uni has been really tough
i currently am reopening commissions and am trying to be more online here on tumblr so i can get more readers. or if you can donate a bit, that would be greatly appreciated too. even just a reblog helps :)
thank you so much for reading, here is the link to my ko-fi & how to commission to those who are willing to help a girl out <3
i just did my skincare so iām feeling good lmao but yeah how has it been 2 years already ahh thatās crazy. so many of my hq mutuals arenāt even on tumblr anymore :(( i donāt speak to any of them anymore either since fading out of the hq fandom but rarely iāll see one on my timeline and think āomg is that so and so? i missed themā
